Chapter 56
From the deck of my parents’ house on Summit Lake
11/28/93
Dear Frida,
I have to admit I’ve been wondering when you’d finally catch on to how perfect Kirby is for you. He really is, Frida. And I bet you anything he feels what you’re feeling, too. But I get why you’re cautious. I think that’s smart as long as you’re not too cautious, okay? And in the meantime: The New Yorker ! Obviously I was excited for Sven, but this is a whole other level. Talk about the year of woman power. Toni Morrison wins the Nobel, Ruth Bader Ginsburg becomes a Supreme Court justice, and FRIDA RODRIGUEZ IS HEADED FOR THE NEW YORKER . Finally, the world is getting something right!! Let me know ASAP when they accept you because obviously they will.
I’m down at Mom and Dad’s house in Olympia, and you’ll be thrilled to know that I ditched my caution, and Sven spent Thanksgiving with us before he hopped on the plane and made his Big Move to the Big Apple. I did it, Frida. I brought my worlds together, and nothing collapsed. I’m moving to New York once Sven gets settled. But first, let me set the stage for Thanksgiving on Summit Lake.
Envision a polished powder-blue sky. Alder and birch leaves shine like caramelized honey amidst the cool evergreen trees. It’s a perfect autumn day. Franny is up from Cali again. Bumpa’s sister and brother-in-law (my Great-Aunt Irene and Great-Uncle Paul) are down from Snohomish. The nursing home made it possible for Bumpa to spend the entire day with us, and Dad and Sven carried his wheelchair onto the deck. Bumpa lived so much of his life on the water. It’s his Happy Place, and there he was on the lake in one of his old windbreakers and fishing hats!
Franny was in the kitchen with Mom and Great-Aunt Irene doing whatever it is people do to a turkey. Dad, Sven, and I were on lawn chairs with Bumpa chatting and reading. Sven had John Casey’s Spartina . How appropriate is that? I was feeling a little anxious, but then I heard the sliding glass door open behind us and the deep vibrating hum of the organ. Great-Uncle Paul started playing “I Left My Heart in San Francisco,” and Bumpa’s head tilted toward the music. He loves listening to Great-Uncle Paul play, and the most serene look came over his face. It felt like our old Thanksgivings at their house when Bumpa and Great-Aunt Irene’s brothers were alive. And Sven was there to be a part of it! My heart was a big goopy joyous Laurie Colwin–esque mess.
For dinner we had a très elegant dish that I’m positive never graced the Rodriguez holiday table: Fair Family Orange Jell-O Salad with Pineapple and Shredded Carrots. To heck with Gourmet ’s cornmeal stuffing with pancetta, walnuts, and dried cherries. Dad sauteed canned mushrooms for his bread stuffing. Of course anxiety tried to make a Grand Entrance when we sat down to eat. What if everyone started telling family stories, and Sven felt left out or thought we were trivial? What if he started a conversation about one of his Big Ideas (unexamined lives or quiet desperation), and everyone looked at him like he just landed from Pluto? I feel like an idiot, Frida. He was so charming, especially to Great-Aunt Irene, and he loved all the stories. Even the one about the time she and Bumpa were riding a horse into their barn. She was in front and saw the beam up ahead and ducked, but she forgot to warn Bumpa. He hit that beam straight on. It knocked him out cold. Is it weird that we never get tired of a story like that? It’s not even very interesting, but we crack ourselves up, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Sven laugh so hard.
Later when we were bundled up on the dock looking at the stars, he thanked me for sharing my family with him. He said he can’t wait to make our own memories and drive our kids crazy repeating them over and over someday. It felt like the right time to tell him Lejla’s theory about our duty to savor everything beautiful in our lives, not to protect ourselves but because it can make a difference. You won’t believe his response. He said, “I’m beginning to understand.” I almost fell off the dock. All my stupid fears Thank you for pushing me.
Love,
Kate